Davian nodded. “Ventilation system is as good as it’s gonna get.”
Eddy hopped off the back of the truck and went to stare at the peaceful valley outside the cave mouth. It was a weird thing knowing this might be the last time he ever saw the Earth. It was his home, but more than that, it was his species’ home. Where they had evolved and where they belonged, somewhere deep in their DNA.
There was something fundamentally wrong about leaving it behind forever. He could feel it in his bones.
Forever was waiting. They’d make a new life there, but it would never be the same. Still, life went on.
“You gonna miss it?” Davian asked, coming up beside him and clapping him on the shoulder.
“Yeah. I think so.” I’ll never see the ocean again.
“I won’t. Earth’s no more than a decaying pit of endless war, heat, and famine. Good riddance.” He spat. “The world’s going down in flames, and I don’t want to be here when it all comes crashing down.”
Eddy nodded. He’d still miss so much about his home world. Sailing on the Great Lakes. The smell of the desert when it rained. The majesty of the Grand Canyon.
The scent of sulfur and blood and death.
It was time to go.
He checked the time. It was 3:04 p.m. “We have a launch window in about half an hour. You ready?”
“Now or never.”
They set to work packing the bare necessities into the Moonjumper. In addition to a small supply of food, each of them had brought a duffel bag with the things most important to them.
Eddy had his father’s old well-thumbed paperback copy of Childhood’s End, a package of Oreos, a pack of Snap gum, and Samson, the dog-eared teddy bear his mother had given him when he was five.
Eddy also stashed as many bottles of water as he could manage in the small space.
They pulled on their space suits and zipped them up, just in case of decompression. Their helmets went behind their seats.
When they were ready, he took one more look outside and cautiously pulled the truck through the fuzz field, out onto the road where the Moonjumper would have a clean shot to the sky.
They climbed up onto the truck bed together.
Eddy took one last deep breath of the Earth’s air. He smelled pine needles and dust. Goodbye, old friend. I will miss you most of all.
Davian climbed inside the little Moonjumper, and Eddy followed him, closing the door behind him and sealing it.
They ran through the preflight check Eddy had written out for them. Not that they could do much about it if things didn’t check out.
They knocked things off their improvised checklist, with Eddy calling things off one by one.
“Seal door.”
“Check.”
“Confirm cabin pressure.”
“Check.”
“Test ventilation system.”
“Check.”
“Test fire propulsion system.”
“Check.”
“X-drive ready?”
Davian turned to stare at him. “Hell if I know.”
That summed up the state of things nicely.
“Powering up.” Davian brought the auxiliary jets online. They would boost the jumper up into the air, and then the x-drive would kick in.
Should kick in. He said a little prayer to whatever deities might be listening.
The power came on across the control screen. Then with a spark, it went out again.
“Crap.” Davian tried to power the jumper off and back on, but nothing happened.
“I’m going out to take a look.” Eddy unlatched his belt and unsealed the hatch. He eased himself out of the tight space between the seats and squeezed around the side of the jumper to open the fuse panel.
Sure enough, one of the main fuses had blown.
“It’s a fuse,” he called back. “I’ve got another in the cavern. Be right back.”
Eddy jumped to the ground and jogged back inside the cavern that had been their home these last few days.
He rummaged through his old toolbox, looking for the fuse. He’d brought extras of whatever he could manage, just in case.
He found it near the bottom.
Next to it was a half-empty tube of readygel. Which was strange, because he didn’t remember buying it. Or using it.
Eddy shrugged. Maybe Davian had needed it for something.
He grabbed the fuse and ran back out to the Moonjumper.
After pulling out the old one, he threw it away and popped in the new fuse, twisting it in to make contact.
He took one more “last” breath of air and made his way back around to the hatch.
He froze.
A kuripa drone was cruising through the valley below them.
Eddy climbed back inside the Moonjumper as quickly as he was able and pulled the door shut. “Trouble. Drone.”
Davian nodded. He powered up the little makeshift craft, and this time the power stayed on.
Maybe they’d be lucky. Maybe it wouldn’t notice them.
Maybe they’d better get their asses in gear.
“Ready?”
Davian nodded.
“Give me some thrust!”
Davian engaged the rocket, and the Moonjumper jerked into the air, rising quickly up from the truck below them, sending the old Ford careening down the mountainside. No other way out now. Five, ten, fifteen feet… they needed at least thirty before he could safely engage the x-drive.
Davian peered out through the wraparound window.
The drone had turned toward them. It was speeding in their direction, and as he watched, something detached from its nose, streaking at them on a burst of flame.
Twenty feet. Twenty-two. Twenty-four.
The missile was speeding toward them. They weren’t gonna make it.
“We have to engage the drive now.”
“It’s too soon!” Eddy’s hand hovered over the drive button.
Twenty-seven.
“If we wait any longer, it will be too late!” Davian slammed Eddy’s hand down on the button, and the x-drive lit up, shining a golden glow throughout the cabin.
The craft lurched to the side, slipping away from the missile as it rushed though the air where they had just been. The missile slammed into the mountainside, throwing up an explosion of dust and debris that showered down on the little craft like hail, filling the cabin with clatter.
“Goddammit!” Eddy fought to control the craft. The ship spun toward the mountainside.
He fired one of the lateral jets, pushing them away and shooting them back toward the approaching drone.
The drone was almost on top of them, one of its laser turrets rising out of its side to target them.
Now or never, indeed.
He punched the liftoff rocket, using up precious fuel but thrusting them above the threshold.
The laser strafed the side of the Moonjumper, but only just, and then they were going up, up, up, rising quickly on a tide of antigravity.
The drone tried to follow, but they were already ascending too fast through the atmosphere, passing through white fluffy clouds.
They were going to make it. “We’re gonna live,” he said in wonder. We fucking did it.
“For now.”
Eddy ignored Davian’s surly tone.
He let go of the controls and let himself float in his seat as the Moonjumper’s x-drive dragged them up toward the stars.
Chapter Six: Hiss
LIKE ANA, Jackson had a rough time of it accommodating to his new life, but his journey had taken much longer.
After the seedling had incorporated him into itself, his thoughts had floated around inside the world-mind in a disjointed fashion, like flotsam and jetsam on the ocean after a plane crash.
It had taken time for it to all come back together, and even then, he hadn’t known who or what he was for the longest time.
It wasn’t until his son, Aaron, had arrived on Forever and touched the world-mind that his consciousn
ess had reawakened, and that he had become Jackson Hammond once more.
Now he felt pride as his granddaughter, Andy, used her gift to help the poor refugees who had fought hard to reach this little oasis.
She was a beautiful child, filled with goodwill and the earnest desire to help.
That was all Glory, he was sure.
Soon it would be time to see her again.
He could feel it. The winds of change were blowing, and blowing hard.
THINGS WERE looking up.
Colin had sent Andy up to Transfer Station for medical supplies. She was a smart kid. She’d know what to bring back—and he felt better having her out of the way. People down here were still restless.
In the meantime, a small supply was coming from Micavery on the next train.
Her talent with Forever and the world-mind still amazed him. She’d built ten of the bathroom structures out of basically nothing before he’d sent her to the river to wash and then bundled her onto the train, wet and exhausted. The woodsheds, as people had taken to calling them, were constantly busy. Far better than having all that human waste going into the river.
Food had started to arrive from Darlith, though the predicted protests had been coming through to him and Aaron fast and furious.
He replied to each, pointedly explaining that this was a matter of life and death for the immigrants in the camp, and they’d figure out the economics of it all later. And how would the complainers feel if it were their own kids who were starving? Parents? Spouses?
The noise was starting to die down, and he felt like he might be turning the tide.
He’d also recruited four “Community Ambassadors” to help get everything in camp back onto an even keel—Dana Thomas, Brad Evers, Kwame Jones, and Maria Ortiz. He’d assigned each one to a quadrant of the camp and put them in charge of distributing resources and bringing issues to his attention. He’d also given them each a pen and notepad that he’d brought with him from his personal supply at home. Old-school, sure, but it worked out here.
“I’ve got a family of four from Darwin, Australia—the Griffins.” Maria looked at her handwritten notes. “Their son has asthma and could use an inhaler.”
“Got it. I’ll relay that up to Transfer Station. What else?”
“A woman from Texas who is trying to find out if her grandson made it up here. I guess he was coming on a different coyote ship.”
“We need to make a list of everyone here and put together a database.”
She nodded. “I’ve started collecting names as I go. I can bring them all to you tonight.”
“Good idea. I’ll let the others know. See if you can get the age and a list of skills for each person too.”
“Will do. Oh, and on that note, I found a civil engineer who said he knows how to build housing using primitive materials. Did it in the Southwest, apparently, after the Great Burn.”
“Send him to me. We’ll put him to work. We need to do better than this.” He gestured at the drooping sheets of plas above their heads.
“Got it. And sir?”
“Call me Colin.” Everyone was too damned formal.
“Colin, then. I’m so glad you’re here.”
ANDY RUBBED her eyes.
She was drained.
She’d made things with the world-mind before, but never on such a scale. It took a lot of energy to tap into the world-mind’s subroutines and bend them to her will.
Not that she was forcing it to do anything, really. It was more like creating a path or a conduit and letting the mind follow her lead.
She’d caught a quick nap on the short trip into town.
The train settled into the station at Micavery with a sigh.
She grabbed her carry sack and headed out into the afternoon light. Creeper vines, wrapped around the poles of the station platform, provided light, and the ground was still wet from the afternoon showers.
She descended the steps and looked up at the town, now almost a city in its own right. Two- and three- and five-story buildings followed a meandering set of roads and extended across the peninsula that swept away on either side of her, about a third of the way up the walls of the world. One of the Transfer Station shuttles was just descending to Landing Station. With luck, she’d be able to hop a flight on it back up to Transfer.
“Your father’s calling,” Rina, her AI, whispered in her ear.
“Put him through.” She stepped off the path for privacy, under a huge mallow tree. “Andy here.”
“Hi, Andy, it’s your father.” He sounded distracted.
“Rina already told me, Dad.”
“Of course. Listen, you’re on your way back up here, right?”
“Yes. I just got into Micavery.”
“Can you catch the next shuttle up?”
“I was on my way there when you called. Is there room?” Something was up. She could hear it in his voice.
“I’ll make room.” Her father was quiet for a moment. “There. Done. I need your help.”
“What’s up?”
“There’s something strange going on with the station-mind. Just get up here as fast as you can.”
She frowned. That didn’t sound good. Her father’s voice had a strange edge to it. Worry, maybe? If it was enough to worry Aaron Hammond, it had to be bad. “Will do.”
“Thanks, kiddo. See you soon. Mom sends her love.” He cut the connection.
Andy threw her carry sack onto her back and set off toward Landing Port at a run.
EDDY STRETCHED his legs out as far as they would go in the confined space until his suit boots touched metal.
Moonjumpers were made for cheap travel from the Earth up to the moon and near-Earth orbit and back. They were not made for comfort. The evacuation tubes built into his suit weren’t all that fun either.
If anything, Davian seemed to have it worse than he did. The man was sweating profusely, and ever since they’d left Earth’s atmosphere, he’d been staring at the control screen in front of him with his jaw clenched.
It was warm inside the jumper. The temperature gauge read ninety-five degrees.
“You okay over there?” Eddy was concerned about his friend’s demeanor.
“Just a little claustrophobic.”
“Ah… the war.”
Davian nodded, but he didn’t look at Eddy. “It helps, a little, to pick a place to focus on. I stare at it and try to forget everything else for a few moments.”
“It must have been fucking terrible for you, those three months.”
“You have no idea.”
He really didn’t. To have been tortured like that, for weeks and weeks at a time….
Eddy cast about for something, anything, to keep himself busy.
Gum. He had gum.
Eddy released his safety belt and contorted his body to reach around the back of his seat. He found the duffel bag, but the zipper was stubborn. He had to work at it to get it to open.
Finally he managed to pull out the pack of Snap gum. “Want a stick?” He opened the pack and held it out toward Davian.
Davian didn’t respond.
“Hey, Dav.” He snapped his fingers in front of Davian’s face. “Want a stick?”
“What?” Davian looked up at him, and his eyes focused for just a second. “No, thanks.” Then it was back to looking at the control screen. “How much longer until we get there?”
Eddy shrugged and popped a stick into his mouth. The watermelon flavor burst over his tongue.
Watermelon. Another thing that was in the past. He savored the flavor, rolling the gum over and over on his tongue.
He checked the nav console. “Another ten hours, give or take.” He could use a little of their remaining fuel to propel them along faster, but he was nervous about the amount they had left after burning off so much escaping the drone.
He’d need enough to slow them down on the far end of their trip, and to maneuver close enough to Transfer Station to be picked up.
Eddy took ou
t a bottle of water and sipped on it. It was warm and unpleasant, but he forced himself to drink it anyway. The heat was starting to get to him too, and he’d never gone through the hotbox treatment like Davian had.
He handed an unopened bottle to his companion. “Drink this. You need to keep from getting dehydrated.”
Davian stared at it for a moment, then nodded and opened it, gulping it down in a single go. He crumpled the bottle and threw it behind his seat. “Thanks,” he whispered.
Eddy squeezed his knee in support. “We’ll get through this.”
Davian pulled away, but he nodded.
Eddy shrugged and sat back, closing his eyes. He dialed up SinPop’s latest and probably last album, an otherworldly, bubbly instrumental.
The music started, and he took a deep breath and let it flow through him, hoping it would take his mind off the present. It worked, and he slipped into memory.
The ocean waves broke upon the rocky shore in rapid succession.
His mother walked beside him along the sea wall. He held her hand tightly—even then, he’d known he was a boy—and stared down at the crashing ocean waves in wonder.
They reached a bench that looked out over the churning waters. She sat down, spreading out her cotton dress, and gestured for him to climb up into her lap. She held him close, her arms wrapped around his chest, the brightly colored fabric of her sleeves whipping to and fro in the wind.
“See that island, out there in the distance?”
He strained to see what she was pointing at. There was a small patch of land out there, surmounted by a few buildings. It was difficult to make out much detail.
“That’s St. Petersburg. Or what’s left of it. I was born there. When I was a little girl, you could still drive across the bridge from here to get there, or drive around the bay, the long way.” She sighed. “So many things have changed.”
He looked out across the waves, wondering.
The world seemed so solid and permanent to him.
If it could change as much and as quickly as she said, how could he ever be safe?
The Stark Divide Page 25